NEWSBYMICHELLE .

I've never been able to fully explain what drew me to work on genocide, and I seem to have no compelling enough response to the quizzical looks of those who do not understand how anyone could devote so much time to a topic so depressing. Like the many advocates in this movement who find themselves in the same position, I believe that genocide represents humankind at its worst, and the moral imperative to fight against it is undeniable.

Most days, I do not believe that "never again" is an achievable ideal. But I do believe that we can get close, and that we have an obligation to try, regardless of the overwhelming risk of failure.

After nearly two years of daily blogging, I've made the difficult decision to move on from Change.org. I've seen Change.org grow from a handful to a hundred, and look forward to watching it progress even further. I thank everyone — but especially Ben, Josh, and Mike Jones — for the opportunity to have shared this platform and been a part of this team. I also owe a huge debt of gratitude to my readers, and the many friends I've made along the way. Your support, encouragement, and — perhaps most of all — arguments are all appreciated; engaging with a community of activists and fellow bloggers has been the most enjoyable part of working for Change.org.

A traumatic event is not confined by time — it creates a ripple effect, as the memory or re-living of the actual act of violence becomes a traumatic event itself, leaving an indelible mark on the lives of survivors, and often even extending to those around them.

Torture, displacement, and the diversity of violence experienced in war, genocides, and mass killing is thus not a singular event, and when we speak of protecting human rights or fighting against genocide, we are not referring to an act or a series of acts, but a complete environment of abuse that reshapes the lives of those caught in it.

Much has been written about the long-lasting — often longer than the world has patience or concern for — psychological impact of trauma. Susan Brison writes of trauma survivors' destruction of a sense of self, Elaine Scarry of the un- and re-making of the world into instruments of pain. The resonating theme is that an act of violent abuse can trap its victim for a lifetime.

When discussions of genocide response and prevention gets into the weeds of policy debates over debt relief to Sudan or the politicization of aid to Zimbabwe, this understanding of the impact of violence in individuals and families remains as the core object of concern. Policy responses cannot always hinge on tugs on heartstrings, but for all of the strategic and economic justifications for intervention, the moral obligation of one person to another is not an illegitimate motivation.

Human rights are not abstractions, but keys to the pursuit of a happy and fulfilling life, of which no one should be deprived.

Photo credit: Merlin

Much of the world's reaction to elections in Sudan can be summed up as, "Phew! Glad that's over. Now let's move along, already."

It is, indeed, symptomatic of the short-sighted crisis-hopping that is conflict "resolution" (using the term lightly) in Sudan, with the corners of human rights and democratic transformation constantly being cut to avert the crisis of the day, usually to the benefit of the country's ruling elites.

But with each flame that is extinguished, more seem to grow. The big ticket item on everyone's Sudan agenda is the January referendum for self-determination in the south — and with it, or more likely without it, the possible return to full-scale war. Elections did little to improve the situation, and perhaps they never had a chance to, even if they had been free. More than anything, post-election Sudan seems to be a case of "the more things change, the more they stay the same."

Darfur, meanwhile, seems all but forgotten.

Genocide can be prevented. Situations of systematic mass killing may be complicated, but they are not inevitable, and a crucial element to ensuring that warning signs are not overlooked is a global constituency of informed citizens who care about the issue, and make sure their elected representatives care, too. Ongoing genocide education and awareness-raising is critical.

I visited the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum this weekend to see the From Memory to Action exhibit — a small installation, in comparison to the museum's extensive permanent collection, but artfully designed and packing a very powerful emotional punch. The exhibit skillfully weaves the stories of three contemporary genocides (Rwanda, Bosnia, and Darfur) to show similarities in the mobilization of the mass killing, and then connects its audience with survivors and advocates who've dedicated their lives to drawing lessons from the past to hopefully prevent the next genocide from occurring.

I spent more time watching others go through the exhibit, frame by frame, than I did browsing it myself. The room was quiet, allowing the audio testimony to echo down the corridor — a far cry from the other crowded museums on the National Mall, to say the least. The diversity of visitors was impressive, but the large number of children, most hand-in-hand with their parents, for some reason caught me off-guard. It was like witnessing an awakening of sorts: Their faces grew increasingly solemn as they absorbed the images and words around them, as if realizing for the first time that the world was a far darker place than they ever imagined, but were lifted back up in a quiet awe by the stories of those who survived and those who are working to change that horrible truth.

The message of the exhibit is that each individual has the ability to act to prevent genocide, to carry the feelings of horror, outrage, and sadness beyond the walls of the museum and allow them to motivate positive change. That so many families chose to spend a Sunday afternoon at the museum, given the plentiful tourist attractions in DC, was impressive, and judging by their expressions as they walked out, the message was sinking in.

At one point, I had to step away for a moment, before I started tearing up myself.

(Photo by the author)

President Obama commemorated Armenian Remembrance Day on Saturday with a carefully crafted statement that danced around a politically delicate issue and likely pleased no one: recognition of the murder of 1.7 Armenians at the hands of the Ottoman Turks as a "genocide," demanded by the Armenians and forcefully protested by the Turks.

Obama's statement said everything but that, referring to the event by the Armenian "Meds Yeghern" and commenting, "I have consistently stated my own view of what occurred in 1915, and my view of that history has not changed." Reading between the lines, the statement refers to the remarks made in Obama's past political life, and on the campaign trail, that the slaughter of the Armenians was indeed genocide — but the Armenian American community will not settle for implied sentiments in place of the recognition they deserve.

The collective sigh of relief over the relative lack of violence during Sudan's national elections may have been premature. Local violence over the announcement of provincial results could be a sign of worse to come, especially as many opposition parties have vowed to reject the pending announcement that President Omar al-Bashir has won re-election. What this will mean for the announcement, which could come tomorrow, and the days, weeks, and months after is anybody's guess.

Local eruptions of protest and violence may be small in scale, but should be taken seriously by all stakeholders in Sudan's peace process. Small incidents of violence have a way of snowballing quite quickly into something far more ugly, and tensions in Africa's largest country have been mounting for months. The sad this is, however, that despite warnings of the imminent possibility of large-scale violence in Sudan, little seems to have been done to deter such a scenario. At this point, there's not much anyone can do but sit, wait, and hope for the best.

That hope is, of course, that despite the enormous challenges facing Sudan, and the categorically unfair elections that systematically prevented Sudanese voters from open and free participation in deciding the future of their country, the announcement of election results will not spark more widespread violence. Hope and faith are generally not the best tools of a mass violence prevention policy, but they might be all we have left.

Photo credit: UN Photo/Albert Gonzalez Farran

What's the oddest collecting hobby you've ever come across?

Years ago, I came across a small lapel pin with the Nazi's infamous swastika insignia when browsing through a flea market. The salesman mistook my questioning look for interest, and launched into an explanation of how rare and special this particular pin was: You see, the special border around the edge indicated that it was awarded to one of the first 500 members of the National Socialist Party. He wanted $300 for it, but said nothing when I asked, "Do you realize that you're giving value to a symbol of hatred?"

Perhaps I'm being overly sensitive, and I suppose the motivation of the individual collector and the meaning he or she imbues in a particular object are the primary issues of concern. A Human Rights Watch military analyst took heat last year for collecting Nazi memorabilia that he defended as the indulgences of a military geek, and the items were part of his larger collection of World War II military regalia. Likewise, the same object takes on a wholly different meaning when displayed in a museum aimed at educating the public of the horrors of genocide.

But to present an item bearing what is now the universal symbol of hatred as a "cool thing to have" is to elevate it to an undeserved stature.

My nagging question, though, is why anyone would even want to bring the symbol into their homes. It gives me the creeps.

Photo credit: Joe Mabel

The destruction of the earth is a problem in itself, and its impact on our lives goes far beyond rising sea levels and crazy weather. It exacerbates humans' destruction of each other, which further contributes to the destruction of the environment. It is perhaps the most vicious of vicious cycles.

The links between conflict and environmental degradation are evident, but often overlooked. Competition for land and resources are perennial conflict drivers, and worsening scarcities of food and water due to rising temperatures, drought, and so on will only create more sources of tension and put already-marginalized and vulnerable populations even more at risk. A group of retired military officers concluded that climate change amounts to a "threat multiplier" that even currently stable regions of the world will succumb to — a conclusion that should grab far more attention than it currently does.

Politics often seems to be more the art of pleasing everyone and no one at once, than it does the "art of the possible." But as the White House's pre-results statement on elections in Sudan makes painfully clear, the art of snaking around controversial issues and opposing opinion ultimately gets you nowhere.

The statement basically says a lot of nothing. Mark at UN Dispatch put it perfectly: "The statement seems to show that the White House is trying to accommodate the competing visions for Sudan policy that have been duking it out in the inter-agency process. But by embracing two messages that contradict each other, what we end up with is incoherence."

The main event, however, will be the international community's response to the announcement of results, whenever that happens. But the While House statement yesterday coupled with the State Department's reaction on Monday seem to indicate an eagerness to be done with elections. The elections seem like just a side show that everyone is eager to move past, and once the dust settles, everything will resume as before. Maybe not exactly as before, but the dynamics at the top echelons of political power will emerge relatively unscathed, at least in the near term.

Many observers had hoped for stronger international condemnation of electoral fraud and voter intimidation, but tolerance for such transgressions seems rather high. The unfortunate (and rather real politik) question that must be asked, however, is: What's the alternative?

Photo credit: BlankBlankBlank

Few places are as bad for children as Burma. An estimated 20% of the national army are children as young as twelve — the highest number of child soldiers used by any army in the world — and those born to marginalized ethnic minority groups face a life of poverty, violence, and displacement.

The military is well-known for not only its own forced recruitment campaigns, but for buying children from "brokers" to fill their ranks. Children are, after all, cheap and obedient, far more likely to do what they're told, far less likely to make demands about compensation and quality of life. For all armed groups that use child soldiers, children are seen as far more expendable when sent off into battle — losing a child is not, for instance, as big of a deal as losing an adult soldier in whom you've invested time and money in training. It's an unfortunate calculation, to say the least, but it's far more common than you might think.